


Spelunking

by khooliha



Category: Evil Dead (Movies), Re-Animator (1985), Spelunky
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-21
Updated: 2014-07-21
Packaged: 2018-02-09 18:44:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1993773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khooliha/pseuds/khooliha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Herbert West has no interest in whatever video game that's frustrating Ash. Really. None at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spelunking

**Author's Note:**

> This was something conceived while in the throes of my own Spelunky obsession. And yes, I wrote it pretty much for the sake of a single joke. This takes place after "Books and Needles Just Don't Mix" but reading that isn't necessary to read this little thing.

Herbert West heard the vicious “Fuck!” as he walked up the sidewalk to his house. He stopped and hoped that maybe he imagined it, but a shriek of “Come on!” rattled his windows and he flinched. In a few quick steps he was at his door, pushing it in, and looked into the red face of Ash Williams. Ash, for his part, was glaring at their television, at what appeared to be a yeti throwing a tiny explorer against a wall over and over. 

“Having a good evening then?” Ash looked up at him and had the good grace to look embarrassed. Not embarrassed enough though. “I could hear you on the walk up.” Ash looked away, muttering under his breath. That seemed the appropriate amount of contrition. “What are you even doing?” 

“Playing a game,” Ash said, once again glaring at the screen which was still a tableau of yeti violence. He jabbed a button and the explorer was free of his torment, now alone in some stone antechamber. Herbert felt the small, familiar twinge of curiosity and, coat still in hand, leaned over the back of the couch. 

“What game?” Ash shot him an incredulous look, which Herbert would have had to admit he earned. He normally stayed away from frivolities like this. “I actually want to know.” 

“Spelunky. You try to explore a whole temple jungle thing. You die a lot.” 

“Hence the screaming?” 

Ash snorted. “I was doing really well.” 

“Uh-huh.” Behind them the game’s soundtrack was looping, worming its way into Herbert’s subconscious. He shook his head but that didn’t fix the problem. The moment his focus shifted to ridding himself of the song something slipped. “Can I try?” 

“Wh-“ Ash only got that much of the word out before he stopped, the shock too much. Herbert snapped back into his careful focus but his stubbornness dug its heels in the face of so much disbelief. 

“Can I try?” 

Ash was grinning now. “Sure,” he said, handing the controller over. “Like I said though – you die a lot.” 

“We shall see,” he said and tried to ignore Ash’s laugh. There was a quick rundown of controls and then Herbert was off. At about four seconds in he dropped off a ledge and was hit by two arrows in quick succession, dead before he hit the cave’s floor. “What?” he half-squawked before he could stop himself. 

“Done trying?” Ash’s laughter was a spur in his side, a red cape waved in his face, and Herbert yanked the controller away even though Ash wasn’t reaching for it. 

“I am not!” Herbert was self-aware enough to know he was competitive but he hadn’t figured on it extending to useless things as well. He started again, moving more carefully, but when a giant spider dropped from the ceiling he was doomed. He realized that his teeth were grinding, half-bared. Ash had leaned back into the sofa, just taking in what was happening, apparently quite satisfied. Herbert jammed his thumb on the start button. 

His third run was going well, if he did say so himself, but a jaunt towards the exit (his first sighting of egress and he was not proud of the thrill that ran through him) went poorly as a skeleton leapt to life underneath him, robbing him of his last heart. Eyes wide Herbert turned from the screen to Ash and back as the little lumbering skeleton wandered in and out of view. “That skeleton-“ He was near spluttering. 

Ash raised an eyebrow. “You of all people are not allowed to complain about a dead thing coming back to life.” Herbert’s complaint died in his throat and he swallowed it down. Without thinking about it he hit start again. 

Ash pushed himself off of the couch, popping his joints. “It’s… Wednesday, right?” he said, more to himself than to Herbert, who was slowly hunching forward on the couch. “You want your usual from the Panda?” A part of Herbert’s brain remembered that Wednesday was Chinese takeout day and he nodded. The action distracted him and a bat knocked him onto some spikes. A sound of frustration rattled in his throat and the alien nature of the sound shocked Herbert briefly. His grip loosened on the controller and he was almost free, but his hands tightened instinctively and his thumb found the start button. 

Ash leaned over Herbert’s shoulder. “Those cobras spit venom. I’ll be back in 20 or 30 with dinner alright?” Herbert nodded again. He grabbed a gleaming golden idol, watched as his little avatar was crushed by a runaway boulder, and wondered what the hell he was even doing. He hit start again. 

***

Ash liked Wednesday because the walk to Bamboo Panda was a good excuse to get out of the house and the dumplings were worth it even if he hated outside. This night had a slight chill in it but he could feel the heat wafting off of the bags in his hands. The world was quiet, calm and beautiful. Suddenly a “No!” full of passion and fire rent the air. Ash recognized the voice but could not believe that Herbert was still playing the game. He would have bet money on the scientist losing interest before dinner. Good thing he wasn’t a gambling man. 

There was a laugh, harsh and triumphant. If you could describe a laugh as Pyrrhic this would be your example. Ash stepped crisply inside the house, just to make sure nothing was broken, Herbert included. 

On the screen the explorer was being juggled between two spike-projecting totem, body flopping around limply. Herbert was leaning back, fists clenched and eyes alight with triumph. He turned slowly to Ash. “I made it to the jungle.” 

Ash kicked the door closed and made for the kitchen table. “Well then! You’re well on your way to Hell!” 

Herbert frowned. “Hell? You’ve got to be-“ He was cut off by the simple shake of Ash’s head. Herbert turned the console off and Ash couldn’t help but notice the care he took in putting the controller away, fingers resting a moment on the buttons. “What is it with you and Hell?” 

“Who can possibly say?” Ash said, getting some plates out. Herbert moved to help, unconsciously humming the menu music. Ash bit back a laugh and made a mental note to buy a second controller. 


End file.
